


Sunlight and Shadows

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Series: The Bright Side Of The Dark Side [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, hinted future OT6, spooky scary au, the others are mentioned but not super main
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:17:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7342498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“So you literally have no idea how long it lasts? The magic could wear off and he could just drop dead again at any moment?”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Gavin overhears something and can’t stop thinking about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunlight and Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angelology](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelology/gifts).



> For the prompts:  
> Things you said that I wish you hadn’t.  
> Things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear.
> 
> For my dearest friend Kayla, happy birthday!! <3

Sometimes, Gavin dreams of forests and darkness and teeth.

There was a long stretch, after he came back from the dead, where he didn’t sleep at all. He was scared he wouldn’t wake up. That seems a reasonable fear, doesn’t it? Sleep too close to death. Awake too close to dreaming - to the paranoid fear that none of this was ever real, is just some sort of hallucinated afterlife, and in reality he is gone, long deep in the ground, and the others mourn him.

That is all stupid, of course. It’s been a year, and he’s slept and woken more than enough times to know that it is _safe_.

But then come the dreams.

It’s the wendigo that triggers them - that night in the dark cottage. Claw marks on the walls and blood on stone floors and a horrible, horrible familiarity to it all - to that haunt of recent death - _what if this happens to me?_

_It did happen to me._

And now, he can’t tell if the nightmares are memories resurfacing, or fabricated horrors brought on by everything that happened this autumn.

But that was weeks ago too, now - and in the bright daylight, he can put such fears from his mind. Sunlight is safe. Monsters only come out at night.

What’s there to be afraid of?

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan has some sort of scientific conference coming up. It’s all terribly exciting - he’ll be gone for three days, off in the big city, and he’s going to give a long speech and present a paper.

In the weeks leading up to this, there’s a great big hullabaloo. Ryan is nervous, Gavin notices, with a delighted, fond amusement. He denies this furiously, of course, even if he’s constantly rushing about the place, drinking ten cups of black coffee a day and rambling wildly about how there’s _no time, no time, I won’t be ready!_

“But you’ve _finished_ ,” Gavin protests, at the breakfast table - Ryan’s hair is sticking up every which way, and behind his glasses his eyes are red-rimmed. He’s got the whole _eccentric scientist_ vibe down pat. It’s great. “Your paper’s full published and all, you just have to talk about it.”

“But my _speech_ , Gavin,” Ryan replies, frantically. “The editing - it’s the most important part of the process! I have to talk up there for an hour - what if no one asks questions? Oh God, what if there’s an awkward silence?”

“Are there jokes in your speech?” Geoff drawls. His fingertip’s lit up in blue flame and he’s lazily burning a dick into a piece of toast.

The colour drains from Ryan’s face.

“Oh my God. I _forgot to add_ _jokes_. Oh shit, shit, how could I forget - it will be _dry!_ ”

And then, of course, there is the great keynote vs powerpoint debacle, which splits the entire household for three days. (Gavin’s suggestion is an imovie - “It shows an engagement with modern media! And you can have background music to fill the awkward silence!” - this is, tragically, shot down as “requiring too precise a level of timing.” Devo.)

Either way, the conference is coming up, and Gavin actually has a lot to do cutting video clips for Ryan’s presentation. He’s heading down to the lab one sunny afternoon to do just this when he pauses on the stairs at the sound of Michael’s voice.That’s unusual for two reasons.

Michael rarely goes into the lab on a normal day - but now, given recent circumstances, practically _no one_ is allowed in there, as it is ‘distracting.’ By which Ryan means he spends his time either in dead silence, eyes glued to his screen as he writes and rewrites his speech - or he’s practicing the bloody thing over and over again, dear God, _Gavin_ has it memorised by now. Including the jokes. There are precisely four and a half (the half is a pun, but such a subtle one that supposedly half the room won’t catch it) and Gavin has to laugh every time and make it sound genuine, or Ryan loses confidence and dithers around for an hour over whether to cut them out.

"Why are you bringing this up now?” he hears Ryan say as he approaches the door, and freezes at the way he sounds. There’s something tight and worried and too-serious in it, and Gavin’s stomach sinks because it’s the same way he sounded when Ray went missing a few weeks ago, or on the rare occasions when he talks about how he brought Gavin back, and _oh God, what’s gone wrong now?_

“I’m just concerned,” Michael replies. “Have you - have you done any tests since, on animals or something?”

“Enchanted hearts are hard to get - no one makes them for _animals_.”

Enchanted hearts - it’s _Gavin_ they’re talking about. His blood runs cold - he inches closer to the door, listening.

“So you literally have no idea how long it lasts? The magic could wear off and he could just fucking drop dead again at any moment?”

Gavin’s heart nearly stops.

“ _Michael_ ,” Ryan snaps - he’s rarely _genuinely_ annoyed, so it scares Gavin to hear it now. “Don’t fucking say things like that! It won’t happen. This _worked_ , it’s not - it’s not gonna happen.”

“But how do you _know_ ,” Michael insists - and Gavin can’t listen any more. He feels sick, and his ears are roaring, and there’s an awful solid block of fear weighing down the pit of his stomach. He turns away and rushes back up the stairs - here he pauses, fists clenched tight, breathing heavily.

_It’s not gonna happen - it can’t happen - the magic can’t wear off, right?_

It was a fear he’d long put aside, but it comes flooding back in now. Suddenly he becomes too-aware of every slow, steady pound of the enchanted heart in his chest - fearful each will be the last, that it might suddenly _stop._ They know little about this sort of powerful magic - if it expires, runs down like batteries - how long might he have? Centuries, decades - or years, _months_?

A jittering anxiety takes over that he can’t shake off - he feels cold, suddenly, and with slow movements and dragging his feet, he leaves the house - passes blindly by the familiar comforts of the sunny kitchen, the sounds of Ray playing video games in the lounge, the worn-down deckchairs on the front porch where one can normally find Geoff napping - and heads down to the forest.

 

* * *

 

It’s a bright, clear winter’s day, and despite the nip in the air, out here on the shores of the lake the sunshine is warm and seeps into Gavin’s frozen bones. Makes him feel a little less numb.

The water is glassy and clear for once, reflecting the bright sky above. Too cold to swim, though. Gavin wonders if it will freeze over - if they’ll get snow like last year.

Out here, it feels like a dream.

This forest full of fairies and water-sprites down here by the lake - rabbits and birds and squirrels in the trees. Soft things, pretty things, the colourful flowers in the spring, the peaceful quiet as evening settles over them - like something out of a fairytale.

But it’s not.

Bad things creep in. At night, in the dark, in the cold, in winter. Most of the time he can forget, out here, everything that’s happened. When he’s with the others and they’re having a barbecue out in the backyard, Geoff using his fire powers to grill steaks and sausages, and the air is filled with laughter and terrible singing and the cheerful clink of ice in glasses. Or when he’s going out for rambles in the woods with Ryan, just the two of them - when he can watch the other man as he goes off on a tangent about whatever he’s researching at the moment, how his voice gets so excited and passionate, words nearly tripping over each other in his haste to get them out. Gavin could look at him for hours.

When he and Michael come down here to drink beer and swim, with the sun on his skin and watching how the other man relaxes for once, in the water - or when he goes with Jack and Ray out to the moor, and they spend nights just looking up at the sky filled with brilliant stars.

The forest. The house. The others - his own little heaven.

But that’s not real. People have died here.

 _He’s_ died here.

_And you could die again, any second._

Gavin lowers his head, staring down at his reflection in the water. In the winter light he looks pale like a corpse, his eyes glowing unnaturally as usual. He feels sick, and looks away, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around his head protectively. The air is crisp and briny here by the water. It burns his lungs every time he breathes in.

 _At least you’re breathing_.

He’s been out here a while, now - the sun’s sinking lower than it was when he set out from the house - but he hasn’t found the serenity he was hoping for. His thoughts refuse to settle on any one thing. _Work through this. Come on. Find some fucking peace, the way you did before._

He can’t.

“Gavin!”

The voice makes him jump violently. He scrabbles to get up and slips, nearly falling off the steep bank into the water - but a hand grabs his arm and he’s tugged back, falling against a solid chest. Arms wrap around him protectively - he recognises Michael, and a flood of warm reassurance rushes through him. Michael always makes him feel safe. He gets his footing back and turns, burrowing into Michael’s arms and hugging him tightly for a moment.

“Whoa!” Michael says, and steadies him. “Hey, hey, okay - you alright? What’s going on?”

“Michael,” is all Gavin can murmur, burying his head against the other’s chest - he can feel Michael’s heart, pounding against his cheek, through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“Gavvers,” Michael replies, but he sounds worried. He guides Gavin to sit down on the sandy bank and tugs him close, keeping one arm wrapped firmly around his shoulders. “I noticed you weren’t in the house and came looking. Whatcha doing out here? I get worried when you go off alone.”

“I know you do,” Gavin mutters, bitterly.

Michael’s silent for a moment. He must hear the funny note in Gavin’s voice - it’d be hard not to.

“Dude,” he says. “What’s going on?”

Gavin swallows. He pulls away from Michael, and can’t meet his eyes, staring out at the water instead.

“I don’t want to die, Michael,” he blurts out, and feels the other man stiffen against his side.

“Hey, hey. You’re not… you’re not gonna _die_ , Jesus fucking Christ - what’s this all about?”

“I heard you down in the lab,” Gavin says, and gestures furiously at his chest. “How… how long will this last? What if I-”

“Oh my God.” There’s genuine horror in Michael’s voice, and he reaches out and grabs Gavin’s hands, tugging until he looks up and meets his eyes. “Gavin… okay, you were _not_ meant to hear that.”

“You’re right, though,” Gavin continues frantically. “Ryan hasn’t tested-”

“Gavin, no,” Michael cuts in. His voice is firm, but Gavin can hear the tightness behind it, knows his confidence is forced. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just being stupid.”

“No you weren’t,” Gavin insists. “You’re worried it’ll happen. Now I’m worried, too.”

Michael bites his lip. He doesn’t seem to know what to say, and after a moment Gavin stares off into the forest across the water - the pretty rust colours of the leaves, the sloping hills leading out towards the dark parts, the bad parts where they never go. He gives a little scoff.

“Used to be daylight was safe,” he says. “But now I’ve got something to be scared of twenty-four seven. Because you’re right, I shouldn’t exist - this is _wrong_.” He reaches up and clutches at his shirt over his chest, tight enough that his knuckles go white, and laughs a bitter laugh. “What if I just collapse one day with no warning? Any second could be my last - there’s still so much I have to _do_ , Michael.”

“Gav…”

“When I first came back…” His voice is getting choked up, and he hates it, but he can’t help it. “I… It sucked so much that I thought I wanted to die, but I don’t - I _don’t_ , Michael, I want to live-”

He’s breathing too fast now, his voice shaking so badly he’s barely coherent, and Michael grabs his shoulders, squeezing.

“Calm down,” he says. “Calm _down_ , okay? Gav… Gav, you’re okay, you’re alive.”

He pulls Gavin close and hugs him again, not letting go - Gavin can feel someone shaking; it’s probably himself. He wants to pull away, but Michael’s arms are tight around him, comforting and secure - it feels like he’s holding him together. After a moment he lets himself try to relax, winding his own arms around Michael’s waist. He feels the other man stroke a hand down his back, and shivers. He _feels_ alive, now at least, against this human contact and warmth.

He isn’t sure how long they sit there. It feels like a long time. Eventually he starts to calm - breathes slower, stops trembling. Michael starts to speak, not letting go of him just yet.

“When _I_ first woke up,” he begins, slowly. “I was scared too. I know what you’re going through - for a long time I was so terrified of dying again, in case this time it was permanent. Then I started experimenting and realise that I always woke up, _always_. Things got… confusing, after that. Sometimes I wanted to die. Sometimes I didn’t. I guess I just take it for granted now that I can’t.”

“I don’t remember what happened, Michael,” Gavin murmurs, something a bit hysterical in it. “That night - it’s all just blank. I’m scared of that too - of it coming back, of me remembering if it… if it hurt. Or remembering what it was like to be dead.”

“I know,” Michael says, and lets out his own shaky sigh. “And there isn’t anything I can say for that except if you do remember, we’re here, we’re _all_ here, whatever you need. Geoff and Ray will protect you no matter what. Jack’s there to listen if you wanna talk about it. Ryan and I, if you need a distraction from it all… we all care about you, Gav. Whatever happens, you’re not gonna go through it alone.”

Gavin smiles a little - it’s unlike Michael to get so sentimental, but he doesn’t sound awkward, now. He sounds so assured. They’ve all come a long way since arriving here.

“I know,” he replies, and pulls back a little, meeting Michael’s eyes. They’re soft and concerned and Gavin can’t help reaching out and touching his shoulder, gently. “But that’s not all I’m scared of. I don’t want to lose any of you. Or for you to lose me.”

Something flickers in Michael’s eyes. He reaches out and touches Gavin’s chest - his breath catches; the other man’s fingers are so warm he can feel them even through his shirt.  
  
“Still beating,” Michael says - he takes Gavin’s hand and tugs it to rest on his own chest. Gavin can feel the steady pound of the other man’s heart.

“So’s mine,” he says, and Gavin lets out an awkward sort of little giggle - Michael doesn’t let go of his hand, just lowers it to rest on his knee, their fingers still tangled together.

“And if it ever stops,” he continues, “Ryan will find a way to fix it. He always will. Don’t worry, Gavin - there’s more than enough magic in this world to keep you going. Just look around us. Can you feel it, now that you’re one of us?”

Gavin closes his eyes. It’s silent out here, the animals and magical creatures hidden away now that it’s winter - but that faint tingle of magic is still in the air around him. He picks up on it more since he came back. Feels it deep in his chest. It scared him at first; now it’s almost comforting. He opens his eyes and nods, and Michael smiles at him, something terribly fond in it.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he says.

“It’s okay.”

“No, really. I wish I hadn’t said it, because I know you won’t stop thinking about it now. And I honestly didn’t mean to bring it up - I have no reason to think it’ll happen. Just…” he trails off, something gruff and awkward in his voice now, like there always is when things start getting too personal. “Some stuff’s been going on - after Ray and everything. Things are starting to change and I got scared about losing you. Just been having a good old existential crisis lately! You know me, they come now and then.”

Gavin nods again, but he’s stuck on what Michael said before - what he’s avoiding explaining.

 _Starting to change_.

He hadn’t even thought about it - but things have been, haven’t they? Between Michael and Ray - Geoff and Jack - Ryan and himself - and not only that. Other things.

Even between himself and Geoff - sometimes, at night when Gavin can’t sleep, they go on long walks together. Out in the moonlight with the demon by his side, he doesn’t have to be scared. There’s something magical about those moments, when for once he isn’t afraid of the dark - when he feels less like a freak and more like he fits right into this strange world.

And Geoff goes out with Ryan too, sometimes - or Gavin will walk in on him curled up on the couch with Michael watching TV - all six of them are so tangled up in each others’ lives by now that sometimes he doesn’t know where their relationships begin and end. Michael’s right, things are changing.

It’s mostly a matter of someone finally making a move at this point, and something in Michael’s expression makes him suspect, suddenly, that something’s already happened that he doesn’t know about yet.

He isn’t quite sure what’s going on here - but it’s been a year now, and it’s about bloody time. Better sooner than later, with the things that have been happening recently - right?  
  
“Good or bad change?” he asks Michael. “Just to confirm, y’know?”

Michael’s lips twitch.

“Good,” he replies, rather mysteriously. “At least, if it all works out like I have planned.”

“Oh, you’re making _cunning plans_ now, are you?” Gavin teases, and Michael laughs.

“Maybe,” he says, and slings an arm around Gavin’s shoulders, tugging him in close before ruffling his hair. Gavin squawks and reverts to his go-to distraction method; a slobbery kiss right on Michael’s jaw. Michael yells in surprise and scrambles to his feet, tugging Gavin with him.

“Oh no you fucking don’t - don’t start that kissing business again, that’s what got you into trouble last time! How about this, you can kiss me once you’ve finally properly kissed Ryan.”

Gavin feels his cheeks burn red, but before he has to really think about it, Michael suddenly grabs him and tips him back, holding him out over the water - Gavin screeches, feet scrabbling to keep a grip on the ground, clutching desperately at Michael to avoid falling in.

“Michael! Michael, no, I don’t want to get all wet - it’s too cold, Michael!”

Still - he’s giggling, and Michael laughs too, and pulls him back to safety. Gavin slaps him on the chest and Michael puts an arm around him and tugs him back towards the house.

“Come on then,” he says, fondly, only to pause. “And Gavin…”

Gavin looks over at him. Michael’s eyes are intense, but warm. Sometimes he gets a funny wary look, like he’s still scared that this family, this _everything_ they've built here together, will be lost the way he’s lost everything else. Gavin doesn’t like it when he looks like that. But it’s not there now.

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael assures him, reaching up and tapping Gavin’s chest lightly again. “Okay? If that thing runs out we’ll just pop another one back in. Like a car battery.”

“Or topping up headlight fluid,” Gavin mutters, but his nerves feel more at ease and with Michael looking so confident, it’s easy to believe that everything will be okay. Ryan brought him back once - he can do it again.

“Exactly. Something’s gotta keep that weird brain of yours going. Now let’s get back before the others start freaking out that we’re _both_ missing, okay?”

Gavin nods, and catches Michael’s hand. He pauses, unable to think of what to say - Michael’s staring at him, and Gavin can see the bright, pale sky reflected in the dark orbs of his funny undead eyes. And there’s a bite in the air; winter’s coming in and half the trees around them look dead and bare - but somehow, thinking about where they are and where they’re going, it feels like some new life is just about to begin.

“Thanks Michael,” he settles on, simply, and Michael just smiles at him, and squeezes his hand, and leads him back home.


End file.
